


Instinct

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Series: Repeat 'Verse [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: The kid talk.(Can be read alone.)





	Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side-story to Stuck on Repeat, but it can be read alone. It makes no attempts to be anything other than fluff.

Stiles blamed Lydia. Stiles blamed Lydia 100% and would probably have considered hunting her down if he wasn’t terrified that she’d kill him. Or Jackson would kill him. Or, honestly, that Derek might, on instinct alone, which would have been unfortunate.

Stupid pregnant Lydia.

She’d said she wasn’t planning on kids, that she was holding out against Jackson’s somewhat pathetic begging. Yeah, right. That had lasted, what, a year and a half? Then there she was, walking around growing the latest werebaby. 

It’s not like they didn’t have enough of the damn things. Wandering, grabbing things, expecting gifts every time Stiles visited; werebabies were menaces.

Lucas, Allison and Scott’s son, was just old enough to think chewing on everything within reach was a good idea, and while Stiles knew teething was a thing, it was less adorable with pointy little puppy teeth.

And Allison and Lydia were now pregnant _together_ , so the moment Lucas stopped teething, there would be at least two more to take his place.

Erica’s daughter Poppy was three, which, wow, Stiles had been a little shocked that she’d procreated first, but hey. Her husband, a born beta Scott had basically adopted named Garrett, was charming and polite. He stayed home and raised Poppy while Erica -- well, while Erica did whatever Erica did, Stiles was probably never going to be sure.

At least Cora hadn’t reproduced. She had even less patience for the babies than Stiles did. 

Between all of the pack members, there were eight kids between 0 and 5, only one of them human, and Stiles really didn’t know what to do with that fact. There were a few older kids, from betas who had joined the pack while Stiles had been “away,” as it had started to be called. Stiles didn’t mind the older kids as much; they knew not to chew on him, at least.

But -- and here was the kicker -- all of the babies and accompanying warm and fuzzy feelings had resulted in one giant issue: 

Derek wanted a baby.

Oh, he hadn’t said anything, probably because Stiles had a tendency to spend as little time around the werebabies as would be polite. And because Stiles had once said, “My god, can you imagine having one of those?” with a grimace on his face.

Apparently, Derek totally could.

Lydia had been the last straw. She’d been holding out, Stiles had been cheering her on, and then she’d caved with a cheerful, “I’m pregnant. I expect an excellent shower gift.”

Stiles had groaned. Loudly. Then Derek’s eyes had started the weird plaintive thing they did when he wanted something but wasn’t going to ask, because he thought he knew the answer. Usually, Stiles would just poke at him until he got it out of him, but then the eyes had watched the werebabies and gotten even more plaintive and Stiles had noped the fuck out. 

He’d been home and back three times -- with Derek having visited him twice in-between -- and the look had just gotten worse. Derek still wasn’t saying anything, but Stiles was pretty sure he knew that Stiles knew.

Which was worse.

With Lydia at nine months and throwing things around the bedroom of her and Jackson’s house while a werewolf midwife -- Stiles’ life would never stop getting weirder -- Stiles was pretty sure he couldn’t keep avoiding it.

If only to get Derek to stop pacing before Stiles stabbed him. Lydia and the baby would be fine. Stiles had already told him that.

“Yeah, all right,” Stiles said, propelling himself out of the armchair he’d commandeered. He grabbed Derek’s arm and dragged him out of the house, ignoring the relieved looks the other pack members were giving him. “We’re going for a walk,” Stiles continued, shoving Derek down the path to the sidewalk, “before you get maimed for annoying the hell out of everyone.”

Derek gave him a look, but didn’t argue. He took a left when they reached the sidewalk, and Stiles followed. 

“I told you they’d be fine,” Stiles said, repeating the words for the third time.

Derek gave him an exasperated look. “I know,” he said. 

Stiles resisted the urge to shake him. “Then stop worrying!” he groaned, pulling Derek closer by the arm and shaking him gently. 

“I can’t,” Derek said, letting himself be drawn. “The pack is anxious, I’m anxious. That’s how it works.”

“Well, the rest of the pack knows they’ll be fine, too, so it’s all a bunch of pointless anxiety,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes heavenward. 

Snorting, Derek said, “People worry about childbirth. They always have. I don’t think even you can reassure them out of their biological instincts.”

Stiles grumbled for a moment, then leaned further into Derek’s space, ignoring the way it made him walk a little bit sideways.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Derek said. “The worry. It means people care.”

“I know,” Stiles agreed. “And I care, you know I care, I just know it’s going to be fine, the same way I know Cam and Davis are just waiting until after the baby’s born to announce they’re getting divorced.”

Derek huffed out a breath. “So you said.”

“So mote it be,” Stiles agreed. That got a small laugh out of Derek, and Stiles could feel his muscles loosening as they walked.

“We should be there when the baby’s born,” Derek said, moving his arm to rest on the far side of Stiles’ waist and tugging them snugly side by side.

Stiles slipped his own hands into his pockets and pressed into Derek’s side. “We will be,” Stiles said. The year he’d spent working on his magic with the Southern Emissaries had been enlightening. It had also made it easier to direct his spark and interpret what it was telling him. “We have about forty minutes.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Fine,” he said, breathing out heavily. Stiles could feel him relax further.

As good a time as any. “So, you know how you’re about the least subtle person in the world?” Stiles asked.

Derek snorted. “I’ve heard that, yeah.”

“It’s true,” Stiles agreed. “I don’t need any magic to know you’re avoiding telling me that you want your own little werebaby rolling around, Derek.”

There was a pause, then, “I do.” Derek ran a thumb along Stiles’ side, then shrugged. “But you don’t.”

Stiles hip-checked him lightly. “I’m not a big fan, no,” he agreed. “But my opinion isn’t the only one that matters.”

Derek looked at him sideways. “I know,” he said.

“So,” Stiles continued, “tell me why you want a baby, other than just instinct.”

“Once upon a time,” Derek started, pulling Stiles more tightly against him, “I had a big family. It was warm and comfortable. Then they were gone, and I stopped thinking I could have that.”

Stiles pressed a kiss onto Derek’s jaw, turning slightly inward. “And then you realized you could.”

Derek nodded. “We’ve made it as safe as it’s going to be, the pack is large enough to sustain itself, and I miss it. Having a family, I mean.”

“You do have a family,” Stiles reminded him. “There’s not a person in that house back there that isn’t part of your family.”

“It’s not the same,” Derek said, shrugging. “I know it’s family, but it’s not the same as walking into a room and just _knowing_ , because every scent is an echo of your own.”

“That’s fair,” Stiles agreed. “It’s okay to want back a little part of what you lost.”

“I know,” Derek said, smiling at him. “I figured that out.”

“Only took you half your life to do it, too,” Stiles said, smiling back.

Derek stopped and turned so that he could put both of his arms around Stiles, pulling him into a hug. Stiles slid his arms around Derek’s neck, keeping him there. “I plan on having quite a bit more life,” Derek said quietly, pressing his face into the side of Stiles’ neck.

“Good,” Stiles said, leaning back to look Derek in the eye. “I plan on keeping you for it.”

“Same,” Derek agreed, pressing a light kiss to Stiles’ mouth. 

“Good,” Stiles repeated. He smiled. “We’re even. If you want something, Derek, you have to tell me. If you tell me, we can talk about it. It’s called communication.”

Derek snorted. “I know.” He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Stiles’. “I’ll always choose you, I just didn’t want to hear you say no.”

Stiles shook his head, keeping his forehead against Derek’s. “How do you know I’d say no?”

Derek opened his eyes, meeting Stiles’ across the small space between them. “You don’t like babies, Stiles.”

“No, but I love _you_.” Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek’s nose. “And if you want to have a baby, I’ll love that, too.” He smiled. “I’ll even read a parenting book or four. Getting over my juvenile fear of babies isn’t too much to ask, Derek. You can ask a hell of a lot more than that and I’ll give it to you.”

“Marry me?” Derek asked, smiling softly.

“Name a time and place,” Stiles said, grinning. Derek moved to kiss him, but Stiles took a small step back. “Later, we are going to have mind-blowing sex. Right now, we’re going to turn around so we can walk in before the baby’s born.”

Derek stepped back into Stiles’ space and kissed him. After a few moments, Stiles ducked out to the side, grinning. 

“Come on, let’s go. I’m pretty sure if we’re not there to meet Lydia’s first offspring as soon as it opens its eyes, she’ll kill us both,” Stiles said, backing down the sidewalk toward Lydia and Jackson’s house, still grinning at Derek.

“Are you going to tell me if it’s a werewolf yet?” Derek asked, walking toward him slowly.

Stiles kept backing up. “Spoilers, man.”

Lydia had a little girl, Calliope, ten minutes later. She was all werewolf.

Elena, Scott and Allison’s little girl, was born a month later, human and perfect.

Maybe babies weren’t so bad.


End file.
